The Fickle Winds of Autumn
38. A Meeting with the Queen

The calm, warm stillness of the cave cradled Kira in its dry surround. She sipped a little of the water that Harath had brought her; its cooling fresh contact washed away the thick dryness of her throat, as it tickled a wandering pathway down to the bottom of her stomach.

But her distracted thoughts still spun and lurched; their anxious whirl stabbed and prickled an unsettled malaise through her apprehensive body.

She and her friends were destined to be eaten as food at some sort of ceremony.

Meat for a hatchling chick.

Wasn’t there something she could do?

To escape somehow, or wake the others up?

But she had tried everything, and looked everywhere.

Had they avoided the wolves and the slavers, only to be eaten by these bizarre eagle-like things?

The two lumpy shadows of Ellis and Aldwyn lay motionless on the cell floor behind her, barely breathing.

It wasn’t fair that she had brought them into this trouble - they had been so kind to her.

Why hadn’t she just stayed in the convent?

Why had the Surrounder chosen to punish her in this way?

Was it something she had done?

Perhaps the nuns had been right to complain and admonish her?

“I have never met a female of your kind before,” said Harath, “and there is much I would want to learn before the glory of the Observance, yes?”

How could she bring herself to converse with such a creature?

A monster who intended to eat her and her friends?

And yet, the bird-woman seemed pleasant enough - quite friendly even - not strict or distant like the nuns, or spiteful and mean as some of her own classmates had been towards her.

Could it really hurt that much to pass some time talking to her?

Perhaps it would stop her anxious mind from worrying about her fate at the Observance?

And she might even replace out some useful information - perhaps even a means of escape?

And besides, wouldn’t it just be rude not to say anything?

“An old myth still runs amongst us,” Harath continued, “that the humans feed their fledglings with milk - like the cattle who graze the hills. Surely this cannot be true, yes? How could such a thing even be possible?”

The warm blood rose in Kira’s cheeks as Harath blinked at her with a deep scrutiny.

Couldn’t her jailer have started with an easier, less intrusive question?

“Erm, well… why do you want to know about us - humans, I mean - why is it that you want to learn?”

“I sense that my destiny is bound to that of the humans, yes? As a chick, I was fed on the flesh of a human merchant who was caught on our mountains. Perhaps he had a stronger soul than most, for I feel that his heart still lives on inside of me. I often think that the Observance changed me more than I can understand - the blessed flesh did not just alter my physical form, but it also affected my spirit and even my way of thinking, yes? I sometimes feel more kinship to the humans than I feel towards my own kind - so I have been curious ever since then to learn all I could.”

The bird-woman blinked in at her and scratched her talons lazily across the cave floor.

“But the humans who come to our mountains have become less and less - and even if we did catch one, the Gift of Skirnam meant they were unconscious, so I could learn nothing from them - until you arrived, yes?”

Kira gently wriggled her shoulders; they itched and stung at the mention of the poisonous spike.

Her friends were still slowly oozing blood from their cuts.

Would they heal soon?

Or would they bleed to death?

Did that really matter if they couldn’t escape before they were to be eaten?

The two static silhouettes, in the far corner of the cell floor, lay cold and senseless behind her.

It was disturbing to see the dark outline of Aldwyn asleep, without the familiar lilting rhythm of his snoring.

Was he still alive?

Was Ellis?

Should she even try to rouse them now?

Perhaps it would be kinder just to let them sleep without waking and alerting them to the horrors of the Observance?

“The young one,” said Harath, “I see the way you look over at him - he is your mate, yes?”

The hot blood flooded through Kira’s cheeks.

Her embarrassed head refused to turn around and face her captor.

“Tell me, please, about your mating rituals - these two are your chosen coupling-partners, yes?

Kira scrunched her toes down into her boots; her mortified eyes looked determinedly the other way.

Perhaps Harath hadn’t noticed her fluster in this dim light?

But it would be just her luck if the bird-woman’s piercing green eyes were capable of perfect vision in the dark, or seeing clear through stone - with even more biting accuracy than Sister Amelia Constance.

“Or is the old one your father? He hunts and provides food for you, yes?”

“No!” said Kira, as she turned in exasperation. “It’s nothing like…”

“Wait!” Harath interrupted. “The sentries are approaching,” she hissed in a low, agitated tone. “Do you hear this, yes?”

Kira’s ears strained against the low, hollow murmur of the caves; the faint echo of tapping scratches rippled in from the entrance behind Harath.

“Tell me these things later,” Harath said in a hushed voice, as she moved back a little from the sturdy lattice of cell bars and lowered her eyes down to the cave floor.

Kira’s inquisitive thoughts pulsed with curiosity.

Didn’t Harath say that she was the queen of the Akkipter?

But why would the queen be so timid and diffident at the approach of her own subjects?

The shadowy outlines of three birds emerged from around the corner: they were shorter than Harath, and less bulky, but their frames seemed sturdier and more strongly defined by muscle.

They giggled amongst themselves in the dim gloom of the cave; from their voices, they all seemed to be bird-women like Harath, but as they drew nearer, it became apparent that their faces more closely resembled that of a goat, with larger, wider eyes than Harath, and longer upright ears - they even had short horns protruding up from their heads - but their beaks seemed sharper and more powerful.

They strolled up very close to their queen and encircled her. Harath looked vacantly down at the floor of the cave, clearly intent on avoiding their eyes.

Kira’s puzzlement grew - the scrolls had never informed her about any queen behaving this way before.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” said the bulkiest of the three, whose horns were the most prominent.

“Isn’t this nice and cosy? The old queen welcoming in the new food! What a pretty picture!”

The other two giggled and exchanged glances.

“We had heard it was so,” the largest goat-bird continued, “but decided to see for ourselves.”

She moved closer to the bars; her yellow eyes blinked and glared in at Kira.

“Look! The flesh of Graath is awake - and the queen has brought it water!” she said. “Well, I’ve never seen the meat awake before - it will squirm and tickle as the blessed chick swallows it! This will be a new and interesting treat at the Observance.”

The other goat-birds stared at Harath and sniggered.

“Do not worry, human,” the large one continued, “the time is very near - perhaps only two or three more sunsets - then you will have the honour of serving the aerie.”

The large one turned and moved back towards her friends and her queen.

“But I wonder if you’ll even last long enough to see it, Harath? Your days fade fast now - time does not halt - not even for a queen. They tell me your wings are no longer favoured by Skrinam, and are all but useless now?”

The two others giggled and stared openly at Harath.

“Still, that doesn’t concern us,” the largest one sneered, “soon your new friend will give us another queen to replace you. Soon your feathers will lose their lustre and turn to dust. You will be forgotten, remembered by none and honoured no longer, food only for the mange-ridden wolves.”

The largest goat-bird held her beak high and barged rudely past Harath, who was caught off balance and stumbled to the floor.

The other two giggled and strutted past their queen, without bothering to notice her, as their merry chatter disappeared around the corner, into the darkness of the cave.

Kira moved back closer to the bars.

How could the guards treat their own queen like that?

Were the customs of these bird-creatures so very strange and different to everything else she had known or read of?

Why did Harath allow them to push her over like that?

Especially when she seemed taller and bulkier than the others?

She was too far away to offer a helping hand, but a wriggling thread of sympathy stung through Kira’s curiosity.

“Are you all right, Harath?” she asked.

Harath returned a swift embarrassed glance and scrambled to her undignified feet, then walked hastily away into the shadows, without a word.